Rain
by Acteon Carolsfeld
Summary: Canadian rainforest on the cusp of winter was hardly the ideal romantic spot for a high-maintenance sports-car. Yet, somehow, Breakdown could make it work.


**Warning:** Slash; making up backgrounds

Continuity: TF: Prime; some time after "Speed Metal"

Disclaimer: Do not own.

* * *

"I cannot be_lieve_ that no-good coward of a Seeker sent _me_, a commanding medical officer, to _guard duty_, in the middle of nowhere!"

A burst of swirling, bright light, and Knockout, a prominent scowl on his faceplate, strode out of the glowing vortex. A quick sweep of his surroundings later, he cringed, and immediately started to rub his arms, all the while taking tentative steps around the muddy puddles between patches of wet grass. "Ugh, disgusting!" He groused, sending a huff through his vents, which instantly clouded in the cold air. "Why is everything so _moist_?!" He sneered at the view, practically bristling when the ground _squished_ under his weight.

"Stupid planet…Stupid mission…" He grumbled, "This weather can't possibly be good for my finish." His intakes hissed in a breath, and he shivered, hugging his chassis when the chilly air cycled through his systems.

Ever since the whole fiasco with illegal street races, Knockout has, unfortunately, become Starscream's newest favourite chew toy. Apparently, defiling the medic's paintjob was not punishment enough, which was why, as soon as the last scratch had been buffed out, a huge list of drone work courtsey of his commander was dumped into Knockout's lap. But that was not the worst – oh no. The Seeker just _had_ to choose the most repulsive of locations. Canadian rainforests might be a great attraction to organic-loving scientists or fleshbags with outdoor tendencies. To a flashy sportscar who would much rather have his plating free of watermarks or mud, however, this was nothing short of a living nightmare.

This just went to show exactly how sadistic Starscream really was.

Spark simmering with desire for revenge, the Decepticon doctor gave the scenery another sweep. Trees. Trees. Trees. More trees. Oh look, a lake! Hurray for more water and mud! Curses abundant under his breath, the red-plated mech glared at every living thing he could lay his optics upon, and looked for what he was instructed to watch for the next three joors.

Before long, he found it, an energon storage compartment disguised as a two-storied human living establishment. His processors helpfully informed him that it was categorized as a "log cabin", used for the planet's natives for an extended period of fun in the wilderness. Why anyone would willingly spend even five kliks at this damp slaghole was beyond the medic's comprehension. Weren't organics much more prone to death by weather? This place was freezing!

Oh well, might as well get this stupid mission over with.

At least the cabin had a large terrace that he could sit on.

With a sigh, Knockout crossed his arms, and hunched in his perch. With nothing better to do, he studied the forest, and the lake that sat at the bottom of the slopes. The trees were tall here, towering over even the medic himself. They were green despite the season, and their branches jutted out in all direction, intertwining until little light could be seen passing through their thin, needle-like leaves. Moss covered everything, from the wet bark to the soft ground between the grass. The lake was gray, a reflection of the overcast sky, where layers upon layers of heavy clouds gathered, piling thicker until they pressed down on the tops of the trees.

Breaths misted here. Knockout shivered, and wrapped his arms tighter around himself.

Cybertronians were a lot more tolerant of extreme temperatures, but the cold here _seeped_, and it stayed, spreading a film of damp mist that coated over deep circuitry.

Knockout dialed his air intake to minimum.

It could be worse, he thought. At least he was allowed some peace and quiet here. The same could not be said aboard the Nemesis, not with a glitchy, narcissistic Seeker at the central consoles.

Knockout was just about to nod off into a light recharge when the distinct sound of a ground bridge opening caught his audials. A little alarmed, he activated his weapon system, and pushed off from his perch to crouch behind the cabin. The Autobots couldn't have actually found this miserable plot of land, could they? From what the medic knew, Soundwave specifically chose this place because it was difficult to locate, an insignificant dot in the middle of a massive stretch of forest.

Thudding pedfalls, and a familiar silhouette. Tension immediately bled from the sportscar's frame, and he let out a sigh, straightening from his hiding spot.

"Breakdown," He walked around the cabin. "Did Starscream's screeching become too much to bear?" A tilt of helm, a flick of a wrist. Knockout felt a quirking smirk emerge onto his faceplate. Breakdown always brought the swagger back to the medic's hips.

Breakdown smiled, and came closer. His peds sunk into the puddles, sloshing the muddy water.

"When he started praising himself for the third time in one shift, I knew it was time to take a stroll planet-side," The large mech said, a curt chuckle leaving his upturned lips. "I think he loves the sound of his voice way too much."

"He loves _everything_ of himself way too much." Knockout rolled his optics, and shrugged his shoulders. "Primus knows why. I've seen garbage disposals with a better personality, not to mention a more aesthetic paintjob."

Breakdown laughed, to which Knockout responded with a cocky grin. The two leaned against the cabin, and had a mighty good time picking fun at the expense of their commander.

Then came the rain.

"Gah!" Knockout jumped, and hurried to brush off the first minuscule raindrop that landed on his finish. He wiped at the tiny bit of water, and twitched like petro-rabbit when more arrived from above, gaining in frequency and size until the sky practically poured. Yelping and floundering, the medic cursed the planet and its solar system, and scrambled to dive under the terrace of the cabin for cover. After much scooting and squirming, he finally managed to fit, but his aft and peds continued to be assaulted no matter how much he tried to pull up his knees.

"I swear to Primus and his Thirteen Primes that the next time Starscream comes into sick-bay, he's going to leave missing at least a limb or two!" The sportscar glared up at the sky, voice hissed and heated. "No one defiles my finish twice and gets away with it!"

And it was totally Starscream's fault that it was raining. After all, the slagger must've known that this place was everything Knockout despised. There could be no other reason for why he'd decided to choose this place when assigning the medic.

The rain continued to fall, not lessening in the slightest. It pelted into the lake, a dense curtain of pattering sounds accompanied by a softer rustle over the forest. The puddles became bigger, welling out of the small dips in the grassy ground. Water drenched Breakdown from helm to peds, and slid down his plating in streams, dribbling from his chin and the tips of his fingers.

Knockout glanced at his assistant, wondering if he should tell the large mech to go back to the Nemesis.

Before the medic could voice his thoughts, Breakdown turned. Without a word, he strode away, steps measured and wide toward the edge of the forest. Knockout watched him go, optics a hazy glow from the shadows under the terrace. He didn't expect his partner to stay, but he still had to stifle a sigh, the gesture mirroring the small tinges of disappointment throbbing from within his chassis.

It wasn't like Breakdown to not even say goodbye.

A little offended, Knockout pursed his lips, and felt a snappish remark bubbling from his vocalizer. He opened his mouth, and was just about to bark out a few terse words when Breakdown stopped in front of a tree, and wrapped his arms around its moss-covered trunk.

With a grunt, the Stunticon yanked the tree out of the ground. His joints tightened, and he braced the bark against his right shoulder, using his weight to weaken the plant's tenacious grasp on the earth. He tugged at its roots with his hands, ripping out large chunks of dirt-covered organic matter. His peds sank into the mud, and murky water instantly pooled around his ankles, swirling and filling up the gaping hole left behind by the tree.

It took Breakdown some effort to tear his limbs out of the slippery, wet ground. The mud made loud, squelching noises, as though in protest of freeing the large Cybertronian.

Knockout watched his assistant lumber over with the huge tree. He could not say a word, lips parted and optics slightly widened. Breakdown only gave him a brief look, and draped the tree over the log cabin.

The rain stopped, at least for Knockout. His aft was no longer vulnerable to its icy touch, and the branches reached far, until it covered most of the terrace.

The air was a little warmer.

Well, this was certainly an improvement.

Knockout wiggled in what little room he could, and peaked out from between the spiny leaves. Breakdown was at the edge of the forest once again, uprooting more trees. Each arm snug around a trunk, the big mech trudged over. Seeing the medic's somewhat astonished look, he smiled, before leaning the trees over the rest of the terrace.

The sound of the rain became muffled, and, before long, the chill eased. Knockout's plating slowly dried. His internal temperature leveled. His intake-cycling returned to normal, and his engine stopped its periodic murmuring in attempts to generate more heat. Despite the awkward crouch, the medic was as comfortable as he could be. He'd still have to venture out and brace the mud once his duty shift was over, but for now, he was content, huddled in a little cocoon of warmth, away from the cold rain.

Knockout waited. He was sure that, with him safely tucked under the terrace, Breakdown was going to leave. After all, Starscream had not assigned two Decepticons on energon watch, and the trees made conversation difficult, especially over the noise of rain. To resort to yelling just to be heard was absurd, not to mention primitive, and comm. was accessible all around the planet. The big mech could very well entertain the medic with some chatter within the comfort of their warship, without having to endure discomfort easily avoidable.

Knockout waited. However, Breakdown made no attempts to leave.

There were no words of goodbye, and no sound of an activating ground bridge.

Just the rain, falling into the lake, and the woods.

And against metal plating.

"…Breakdown?"

"Hmm?"

_What in the pits are you doing?_ was a more than adequate expression of concern by Decepticon standards, but something else left Knockout's vocalizer altogether:

"Come down here."

Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.

"There's…enough room."

He said, even as his own optics widened at his sheer audacity at asking such a thing.

There was no reply, and no movement indicating surprise. At least, none that Knockout could hear. The medic felt like a fool, asking such a thing from the larger mech when it was clear the Stunticon would rather stand outside in the rain. There was enough room, but barely. Breakdown wouldn't be able to fit under the terrace, of course, but he'd still have to be close, perhaps too close, to get some cover under the trees.

Knockout felt his cheekplates heat. What a stupid thing to say. He bit his lips, and glared down at his hands. The glare was startled away when the branches shifted, and Breakdown came into view, peering in with narrowed optics that tried to blink away the rain.

"You sure?" He asked.

Knockout gaped. Then he nodded.

"Yeah."

Breakdown flashed a lopsided smile, and crawled under the makeshift canopy.

* * *

Breems clicked by.

The rain grew thicker, an even blanket of soft, rustling sounds.

The trees blocked out most of the water, but some slipped through, trickling onto the top of the terrace before dripping down from its edges. Knockout watched it fall. Its descent was brief, followed by a small, splattering tap against the wet ground.

Beside him, Breakdown chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Curious, the medic lifted his helm, and peered up at his partner.

Breakdown gave his helm a slight shake. There was a whimsical smile on his faceplate, but he did not appear to be pressed to share.

Knockout frowned, and turned to lie on his side. Reaching forward, he gave the large mech a nudge on the thigh.

"Tell me." He insisted, and pursed his lips when the Stunticon gave him a sideways glance, and laughed, seeming to have found something funny in his expression.

"It's nothing." At the flashy sportscar's narrowing glare, Breakdown held up his hands, and his grin turned slightly apologetic. "It's nothing, really. This just kinda reminds me of when we first met, back at the medical academy."

Knockout blinked, glare replaced by curiosity.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Breakdown glanced away, looking a little sheepish. "It rained then too." He paused a little, and mumbled, "…I got water on you."

Knockout rolled his optics. His vents sent out a curt huff, and he rolled onto his back, tugging up his knees. "Yeah, you did." He replied with a flat voice. Its deadpan tone made the bigger mech fidget.

Silence hung over them, broken only by the dripping raindrops. Knockout stared up at the ceiling, and rubbed his abdominal plating.

"…You're lucky I always have a polishing cloth on me." He continued, twirling a wrist. "Rain on Cybertron was acidic, you know? That 'water' could've corroded my finish."

"Yeah," The larger Decepticon let out a sigh. There was a dull "thud" as he dropped his helm back against the wall of the cabin. "I must've left quite an impression on you, huh." There was a strange note in his voice, prompting the medic to tilt up his chin.

Field of vision upturned, Knockout studied his seated partner. "If I happened to _not_ have a polishing cloth on me, I would've skewered you." That was barely a joke, but it made Breakdown laugh anyways. Knockout smiled, and the glow in his optics was only a little pointed.

Breakdown took an intake when his laughter eased into a grin. He rested one of his elbows on his knee, and sent Knockout a tickled glance. "Then you'd be without the best buffing partner you can ever have." He teased, helm quirking toward the smaller mech.

Knockout met the gesture with a stare, and let out a snort. Not sparing a single word, he turned away, and settled his weight onto his side. There was no point to argue about something true. However, that _did_ remind him…

"I hope you remembered to warm up the buffer before you came looking for me." Tone light and flippant, the sportscar waved over his shoulder. "My aft could use a round or two after braving this Primus-damned rain."

"It's just water," Breakdown said.

"Even _if_ it's just water," Knockout sniffed. "Besides, you love buffing my aft."

"My favourite place."

"_Everywhere_ on my frame is your favourite place."

Breakdown laughed some more, and Knockout bit back a chuckle of his own. The silence that followed was comfortable, made better by the warmth generated by their systems. It was strange, in a way, to be reminiscing over old times while hiding from the rain. It was much too mundane, much too sentimental, for ones who'd been fighting a war for too many vorns to count. Getting close, like this, was dangerous, and the medic found that he couldn't even be sure when the big bot had become such a fixed part of his life, but here he was, keeping the red-plated mech company.

Knockout frowned.

"Why?"

The question was unexpected, even for the smaller Decepticon who had asked it.

"Why did you come?" He spoke on, optics fixated on the branches blocking out the rain.

Breakdown shifted on his spot, and did not reply right away.

"…What do you mean?" The question back was tentative. Immediately, the medic knew: there was definitely something on the Stunticon's mind.

There was no point in forcing it out of the big mech, though. It'd only make Breakdown anxious, a lingering effect from the paranoia glitch he'd once had. Such thought came to the medic as naturally as admiring his passing reflection, and, once again, the familiarity it suggested worried Knockout.

"…How—…" He began, and almost bit it back. "…Why are we—...like this?" His fingers clenched a little. "…close?" He finished, the word trailing softer at the end. The hesitance in his voice made him uncomfortable, so he squirmed, pretending to be settling into a different position. He knew the act wouldn't work with Breakdown, but he did it anyways, to appease himself if no on else.

Breakdown stayed silent for a short while. Then he admitted:

"I don't know."

Knockout felt his gaze lower. He let out a huff, annoyance flaring from his spark. _Of course you don't know_, he parted his lips to say, but, to his surprise, his partner spoke on:

"It's kinda hard to believe, isn't it? Given that you probably didn't like me very much at the beginning." A shift of plating, probably a shrug. "That's what I think, at least."

This was odd. Breakdown usually wasn't this keen on sharing his musings.

"I'm uhh…I'm pretty glad, though, that you decided to—…you know, let me hang around." Breakdown must've been embarrassed to be talking like this. Even Knockout was starting to feel a little flustered, cheekplates heating and optics growing wide. "When you came to that party for my birth vorn, the one my dorm buddies threw? I was pretty surprised."

"Yeah," The medic blew air out of his vents to elevate some of the burn in his faceplate. "'Cause I was so shiny all of you squinted, sitting at a corner outlet having a cube. I still can't believe I wasted my best polish for that." He grumbled, as though he'd really cared that he'd spent a good chunk of his leisure credits for that tiny little can.

"Heh, sorry." Breakdown's apology was genuine. "I guess I should've told you where we were going."

Knockout shrugged. "It's what happens when you're young and stupid."

"Yeah."

What in the pits? The large mech actually agreed. The sportscar blinked, and pushed himself up just to toss a huffy glare over his shoulder. He got up onto his elbow. He swirled his helm to the side. He strained his neck cables, a snappish retort on the tip of his glossa as his optics swept toward his assistant. However, one look at the seated Stunticon froze his words before they'd even begun.

Breakdown…was staring at him.

Knockout blinked again, a little taken back.

No, Breakdown wasn't just staring.

He was looking, truly looking.

His optics met Knockout's head on, without even a single sliver of threatening to buckle under its weight.

As far as Knockout knew, without the thrill of battle or the burn of rage, keeping a gaze was difficult, and would always be difficult for Breakdown. Without a distraction, the large mech was prone to suffer the last threads of his past glitch, opting to glance rather than dwell. This was something new, something unprecedented. The medic didn't know what made this rainy guard-duty shift different, but here they were, vision locked on to each other's.

Breakdown took a deep, quiet intake.

"Knockout."

"Y-Yeah?"

"I'm…very glad you let me hang around you. I'm very glad you came to my party." The large Decepticon spoke in a firm, but soft voice, its deep timbre soothing atop the thick murmur of rain. "It's not often a mech lets a bot stick around, especially with the war. I know it hasn't been easy, so I really appreciate you letting me stay, even though you'd probably prefer going solo, with no attachment.

"It's…really not often a mech meets someone who'd actually give a damn."

Knockout's optics grew round. His lips fell apart. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, what he was hearing. However, as much as he tried to deny it, something deep within his chassis stirred.

"If it weren't for you, I—…I don't know where I'd be." Breakdown's fingers clenched around each other. "If you hadn't smacked some sense into me, Primus knows I'd still be glitching about optics that don't exist." The large mech took another intake. "I became useful because of you, and I know this probably sounds stupid, but I honestly think I managed to survive this war because of your help. I couldn't have become who I am, gotten so far, without—without you, so I uhh—…I just…" The Stunticon looked away for the first time since the beginning of his talk. "I'm just really glad, to have someone put in an effort with me."

Knockout…couldn't move.

He peered up at his assistant, his partner, and, as much as he knew that, as a Decepticon, he shouldn't be letting Breakdown tell him this, he couldn't utter a word, joints tensing as his spark fluttered inside him.

"You probably know by now that I—…that I came looking for you for a reason…you know, more than just seeing how you're doing." Breakdown started to fidget, cheekplates visibly warming. "And I'm sorry for taking so long to tell you this, but I—…I guess what I'm trying to say is that—…well…" He took a final deep intake, and looked at the sportscar straight in the optics:

"I…would like to ask you…

* * *

"—_Kathy Jiang, for the honour of being my date for the Formal on November 16th."_

* * *

**Notes:** Yes, Kathy J.: that means you! _Surpriiiise!_ :DDDD Christopher and I have been planning this for quite a while now. What a lucky girl you are to have such a sweet guy as a boyfriend! And congratulations on graduating! -big hug-

This story is a gift fic for dear Kathy. A lot of the stuff Breakdown and Knockout talked about is based on actual events, albeit modified, and most of what Breakdown says toward the latter part of the story are paraphrased and expanded on from what Christopher had wanted to say. I honestly never expected to receive such a request, but when Christopher approached me with the idea, I had to do it – It was too great to pass up!

Hope you like this gift, Kathy! And have a wonderful time at your Formal! For anyone else who'd decided to check this out and are perhaps wondering what Breakdown was about to say:

I like to imagine him asking Knockout to enter a serious relationship with him. ;)

**Edit: **For information on Canadian temperate rainforests, please visit: en. wikipedia ( d o t ) o r g / wiki/ Temperate_rainforest # North_America


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